


My Baby, He Wrote Me a Letter

by Llama1412



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-13
Updated: 2010-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Since Arthur had become king, Merlin never really saw him anymore. So Arthur started leaving him little notes.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	My Baby, He Wrote Me a Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Livejournal in 2010. Posted unedited.

Since the coronation and his own promotion, Merlin didn't see anywhere near as much of Arthur as he'd like. The king had many duties to fulfill, after all, and only a few of them required the presence of the Court Sorcerer. And it wasn't as if he never saw Arthur. They lived in close quarters. Much closer, in fact, thank much of the Court was aware. The king's bed, while often slept in by his wife (and occasionally her Champion), was not frequented by the king, who preferred to make his bed next door with the Court Sorcerer. Merlin's quarters were never entered by the maids, first because they were wary of the magic and later because he didn't really need people to clean for him when all it took was a flick of his wrist. Therefore, the extensive servant gossip network was unaware that most of every possession the king held dear lay in varying spots around Merlin's chambers.

So yes, Merlin still saw Arthur, but it wasn't quite the same. He was no longer there to hear every though and disparaging remark that crossed the prat's mind. To be honest, Merlin missed it, even though most of the disparaging comments were directed towards him. It made him a little lonely to realize that that wouldn't happen anymore, not like it used to.

He wasn't expecting Arthur to pick up on this. Even if the prat felt the same, he wasn't likely to say it. So it was with a flush of pleasure that he left the antechamber/office-of-magical-experimentation to find a little note sitting on the table that definitely hadn't been there before.

_I read a report earlier about a nobleman that got lost in his own chambers and thought of you. Idiot.  
Yours,  
Arthur_

Merlin caught himself grinning stupidly at the little note and squashed it immediately. It was just a silly little message in which Arthur had managed to insult him. There was really nothing to be so pleased about.

That didn't stop him from carefully shutting the note into his old magic book, the one Gaius had given him when he'd first come to Camelot, for safekeeping and later pressing Arthur down onto the bed and sucking loving kisses down his chest, loneliness forgotten for the moment.

A month later, Merlin was suffering a near breakdown as everything that could possibly go wrong that day was going wrong. Gwen had tried to console him, stroking his back and directing the frustrated sparks flying off his fingers away from anything flammable, and true, he was better off for not having to douse a fire (especially since the way this day was going, something would go wrong and the entire castle would end up covered in bright purple sludge), but it was with a heavy air of exhaustion that he entered his bedchamber (Gwen had booted him out of his office) and nearly crumpled the parchment scrap on his pillow when he flopped onto the bed.

Feeling lighter already, he unfolded the note and read, with a lazy smile grazing his lips,

_Your influence has been atrocious. I nearly called this visiting king a prat. Won't help the alliance any, that.  
Yours,  
Arthur_

When Arthur returned later that evening, he found Merlin curled up on his side, note cradled in his hands and lips still upturned. "Idiot," he murmured, hands combing through Merlin's wild hair. "My idiot." He bent down to press a kiss to Merlin's forehead before settling in to sleep himself.

\--

The letters never became a regular thing Merlin could look forward to, but they were altogether better for the pleasant surprise they brought. So he was disappointed when three months went by without a single message. Arthur was busy, true, doing official things, but...Merlin missed him. He felt like he was now seeing less of Arthur than he had before. Each morning, Arthur was up before dawn and gone by the time Merlin rose. Each evening, he came in yawning halfway into the night and toppled onto the bed with a groan.

Merlin understood this, understood that Arthur was stressed and overworked and didn't have time for a relationship. He really did. There was a new festival coming to town and the court was flooded with courtiers from all reaches of the kingdom. So it made perfect sense that Arthur was a bit overworked. But then Arthur stopped coming to Merlin's room at all.

The first night, he'd been concerned, thinking that perhaps some disaster had befallen the kingdom, but he knew Arthur would call for him if it was warranted. He didn't go looking for him. He was too exhausted, tired from the day's events, and figured Arthur would show up later.

The next morning, it occurred to him that maybe Arthur had just fallen asleep in the throne room. It wouldn't be surprising, really, not with all the hours he was spending here. Yeah, that was surely it. But Merlin never got the chance to ask him.

He didn't see Arthur at all anymore. Counsel meetings had been suspended during the festival and all the castle staff were out enjoying the show. Arthur was nowhere to be found.

Morgana mentioned later that Arthur had gone to the festival with his queen, had lead the dancing couples in the night's first dance, and had stayed, surrounded by the merry-makers for a much-needed holiday. She could see Merlin's eyes dim from across the room.

"Merlin?"

"It's nothing," he gave a weak smile and left quickly.

He decided he needed some time away. He headed off to saddle his usual steed, leaving her with the stable master while he gathered his belongings. When he got back, though, the stable master was gone and Arthur stood in his place, eyebrows raised imperiously. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

Merlin's heart twinged looking at that arrogant face, lined with exhaustion, but ultimately _happy_. He looked away. "Yes," he said to the reins, taking them from Arthur's hands and holding them steady while he strapped his bag onto the horse.

"You know, generally, people ask the king before they bugger off to gods-know-where."

"Good for them. You're in my way, sire." Merlin said, tone flat as he mounted and steered around his liege.

"Merlin?" Arthur's confused voice followed him through the courtyard and out into the forest.

\--

He stayed out in the woods for three days. He almost didn't come back, but decided that, ultimately, he was still Arthur's sorcerer. He couldn't leave his king defenseless and he owed Camelot more than his desertion. So he returned, late at night so that he could avoid notice.

He shouldn't have bothered. As soon as he entered his chambers, he found Arthur asleep in his bed. Of course, his mind offered cynically, Arthur hated moving. His stuff was still here, so of course he would deign to stay here - as long as Merlin wasn't there, it seemed.

That was almost enough to make him leave again. He wouldn't abandon Arthur, of course, but he could always live elsewhere and help from afar. It wouldn't be too hard to manage. But then he saw the note.

He couldn't not read it. Arthur's notes were something he held dear, all of the them pressed neatly between the pages of his most-loved magic book. So he walked quietly to the bed and picked up the paper from his pillow.

_Okay, first of all, I want to make it clear that I am doing this under great duress by Morgana and that I would never otherwise use such sappy language. Understood?  
I love you. I love the way you look at me and see a prat instead of a royal. I love that you refuse to be intimidated by me and refuse to back down no matter what. I love that you smile at me and treat me like any man. I love that, with you, I know exactly where I stand. So I'm making it clear now where you stand. I love you. I have tried to give my heart to others, those whom I might be expected to love, but I can't. There is no one like you and you alone hold my heart. I know I don't say this enough. I know I'm an idiot for not realizing you needed it. But here it is, flat out: There will never be anyone but you. You're stuck with me and I would never wish it otherwise.  
Yours forever,  
Arthur_

"Oh," Merlin uttered, tears welling up in his eyes. He clapped a hand over his mouth as the figure on the bed shifted and sat up.

"Merlin?" A groggy voice inquired. Arthur blinked lazily at him before it apparently processed and he shot up. "You're back! Where were you? I can't believe you just _left_. I thought - " he cut himself off. "You're back," he concluded, reaching a hand out to cup Merlin's face. "You're back."

"Yes," Merlin whispered through his hand, not thinking to take it away. A tear slid down his cheek.

"Merlin," Arthur pulled him forward, guiding his face to Arthur's neck, hands cradling the back of his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize, I'm sorry. I never meant to make you think - " he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing next to Merlin's head. "I was busy and when I finally finished, I wanted to bring you to the festival, but Guinevere caught me first and I didn't find you until the second day in the stables and you...well...I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to Merlin's forehead. "Morgana made me see what had happened and...I mean it, Merlin. Etiquette has been too ingrained, you know that, but I really do love you. Please don't leave me again."

"Never," Merlin mumbled into Arthur's collarbone. "Never, never, never. I'm sorry. Never," he kept saying until Arthur pulled him up into a kiss.

"The festival ended tonight," Arthur began some time later. "Everyone got completely pissed. The Court won't be waking up until well past noon. I think we deserve a lie-in, no? Besides, I'm the king, I can do what I bloody well please."

"Prat," Merlin grinned, pressing his lips to Arthur's again.


End file.
